the several orders of architecture, fixed names had been given. These in the beginning were only two, the Héliadic and the Asiatic, or the Attic and the Ionic, for they were promiscuously used. But Eupoimpus, who was from Sicyon, by the superiority of his talents, distinguished himself so much, as to create a third school, which after the name of the country that gave him birth, was called Sicyonic. In this respect, the moderns appear to have followed the footsteps of the antients; and the several names which we have given to our schools, are to us as many points of distinction, as the Asiatic, the Attic, and the Sicyonic were to the Grecians. It is true, that in progress of time, these Greek names were all lost, so that by one appellation alone we now design these three antient schools, whilst we still preserve the distinction which we have made in regard to our own. At the close of the famous age of the Grecian painting, which had began from Apollodorus in the year 404 before Christ, we find, for the first time, this alluring art cultivated in Rome. A young Patrician, a Fabius, painted the temple of the Goddess Salus, and from this performance he obtained the surname of Pictor. But the dry way in which Pliny records this fact, makes us see the difference between what he says, and what he wished to have had it in his power to say. All his attempts to insinuate the great esteem which his countrymen had for painting, clearly establish the truth, that for a long time the Romans did not produce any painter of note. In the account which he gives of all the paintings made in this capital of the world, we find Grecian artists employed; and from the great prices which Sylla, Cæsar, and Lucullus paid for some of the pictures of the great antient masters, we learn, that before Augustus the Romans had no painter of any celebrity. Upon these considerations we may therefore safely regard Arellius as the first Roman, who deserved a reputation on account of his productions. Speaking of him, Pliny says, Romæ celeber fuit Arellius, nisi flagitio insigni corrupisset artem, semper alicujus fæminæ amore flagrans, et ob id Deas pingeus, sed dilectarum imagine. But this was not the first nor the last time that the portrait of a mistress received such homage, nor indeed was Arellius the only painter who paid such deference to his mistresses. The famous picture of Apelles representing Venus coming out of the water, according to Pliny, was the portrait of Campasores the mistress of Alexander, or according to Athenæus the portrait of Phryne. But whether this painting represented the likeness of the one or the other of these women, Augustus placed it in the temple of Julius Cæsar. Indeed, Phryne in her youth had set more more than once for a model to painters to represent the goddess of love. The classical scholar is not ignorant that Praxiteles had drawn his celebrated Venus of Cnidos after the likeness of another mistress whom he loved, and if we are to believe the historian of the popes, a Roman painter to represent the Virgin, drew the likeness of a sister of Alexander VI. who was more celebrated for her beauty than for her virtue. During the reign of Augustus, it appears that fresco painting was introduced in Rome. Divi Augusti ætate Ludices primus instituit amænissimam parietum picturam, are the words of Pliny; but with the death of that emperor we must date the fall of the art. Among the various instances of the taste of the succeeding emperor, our historian records a curious order of Claudius, who wished to shew his regard to the memory of Augustus during his life time this emperor had presented the public with two pictures of Apelles, representing Alexander the Great; and Claudius ordered that in both the portraits, the head of Alexander should be scratched out, and the likeness of Augustus substituted in their stead. The Roman artists of any note recorded by Pliny, are Amulius, who lived under Nero; Turpilius, who was left-handed, and Pliny remarks that before him, since the time of Pacuvius, no citizen of rank had practised painting; Cornelius Pinus, and Accius Priscus under Vespasian. Pliny, indeed, appears to have admired this particularity of Turpilius, and says, that before him a left-handed painter had never been seen. But with us moderns this particularity has lost the power of exciting surprise. We have had not only left-handed painters, but also painters who could make use of both their hands as they pleased. The French, perhaps, have the most curious instance that has ever been recorded by history. Touvenet being attacked by a paralytic stroke which deprived him of the use of his right band, he painted with his left the Visitation, which is one of his best pictures, which was, and perhaps it is still in Notre-Dame. This instance of Touvenet is more surprising than that of Turpilius. For this Roman knight had acquired from his infancy the habit of using his left hand, while the French painter during the whole of his life had acquired quite a different habit. The removal of the seat of the empire to Byzantium, no doubt, contributed much to hasten the decay of the arts both in Italy and Greece. By this impolitic and short-sighted measure of Constantine, Italy became exposed to the ravages of the barba * This Amulius appears to have been the first who painted a head, that spectantem spectans quacumque adspiceret. rians; and Greece saw herself stripped of all her first rate works, to embellish the new and distant capital of the successors of Cæsar. But the cause which more than all hastened the total ruin of the arts, was the necessity under which the chiefs of the Christians found themselves, to destroy every monument of heathen worship, and to extirpate idolatry. By these means we lost the first-rate productions of the arts, and if we will take the trouble to consider the motives under which they took their measures, and the ardour with which they executed those measures, we must not be astonished at what we have lost, but at the few monuments which still remain. After the extirpation of idolatry, when the Christian religion was generally established, and established to be too soon perverted and degraded by superstition and ignorance, the arts were not exempt from this general contagion. But what may perhaps surprise the reader, is, that the same papal tyranny which a few centuries before had almost annihilated the arts, was now the cause of their revival. The great commerce which Italy made in the East, had once more introduced opulence, and the pious feelings of our forefathers persuaded them to dedicate a part of their wealth to what they considered as the advancement of religion. They founded monasteries, they built churches, they wished to adorn with images the place of their worship, and the few painters that still were to be found in Greece, were sent for to fulfil their well meant resolution. These artists soon taught the Italiaus to imitate the little art which they brought with them. In this state of things Cimabue appeared in Florence, in the year 1240; and from him we may date the revival of painting. From that time, and during the two following ages, we find in Italy many painters of some note, but none excellent. The first Tuscans continued for some time to follow the style of the Grecian painters, their contemporaries and their masters. In the drapery and disposition of their figures, they shewed the infaucy of the art, because they had no other models to imitate. But imitation being exhausted, those who followed applied to imagination and went a little further. Among these second painters, in point of time, we find Masoline and Masacci, who, in the folding of his drapery, and in the mode of his dresses, much resembles Raphael, though he preceded this great master for almost a whole century. And here we cannot but lament the foolish fashion which was then adopted, of introducing in historical paintings, representing antient deeds, contemporary persons dressed in the garb which was then used in Florence. This strange fashion retarded the introduction of good taste, though it could not stop the progress of the art. Ghirlandajo improved and almost found out perspective, good disposition, and exact ness ness of design; and Leonardo da Vinci applied himself to the chiaroscuro, and other principal parts of painting. At this time in Lombardy, and in the state of Venice, there appeared Bellini, Mantegna, and Bianchi, who followed very closely the progress of the Tuscans: but as all their pupils did not dare to depart from the rules laid down by their several masters, the art itself could not be brought further than it had been by Da Vinci, and Pietro Perugino. The former of these painters already possessed the true principles of real grandeur, the latter a certain grace, and an easy simplicity. At this decisive moment a ray of that light which had formerly illuminated Greece, darted on Italy, and painting, which for two centuries had scarcely made any improvements, reached at once sublimity and perfection. Michael Angelo, who had already surpassed Ghirlandajo, saw the collection made by the Magnifico Lorenzo dè Medici of the first rate productions of the antients. Fired by emulation against da Vinci, and with him employed to embellish the hall of the old palace of Florence, he gave a new life to painting. The Sistine Chapel, however, completed the reputation of Michael Angelo. It was an im mense undertaking, but it was not beyond the genius of the artist. He improved his style, and there is much reason to believe, that without a field which would have required the full exertion of all his powers, Michael Angelo would not have been what he is. He perfected Raphael, and the last production of this great genius, the Transfiguration, possesses so much perfection and delicacy, that we cannot help lamenting the premature loss of such a man, who alone, amongst the moderns, has possessed the most essential qualifications of an artist; to equal the antients, Raphael required only the style of beauty, which he could not learn either in the schools of his time, or from the customs and manners of his age. The rapid progress of the art was not confined to Florence or to Rome, it extended also to Venice. Giorgone, who preceded Titian by a very few years, had founded a new school, which made an immense progress. Obliged to remain in his native country, Titian had not the opportunity of studying the productions of the antients. He wanted the grandeur of the style of Michael Angelo, and having no such idea, he applied himself to the appearance of truth, which depends on colouring. In this important branch of his art, he copied nature so closely, and acquired such a degree of excellence, that he has as yet found no equal. In the same age with Titian, the Duke of Mantua employed Mantegna, and under this painter was established the first Italian academy of painting. In this institution was formed Bianchi, who who was the master of Correggio. His principal merit consists in the relievo in the chiaroscuro, whether we regard his imitation of truth in the personages taken individually, or the power of his invention in the whole mass. Thus painting reached the highest degree of perfection amongst the moderns; but all the schools which then appeared, endeavoured to obtain this end by different paths. Michael Angelo is remarkable by the boldness of his contours, the precision of his strength, and by the grandeur and magnificence of his work as a whole; Raphael excelled in invention, compo sition, variety of characters, expression of passion, and elegance of drapery. Titian surpassed them all in the knowledge of colouring, and in all those incidents which light can produce; while Correggio shewed the delicacy and the gradation of the chiaroscuro, the expression of love, and of all which may be termed taste, to the utmost degree. In these circumstances it happened to the moderns what had formerly happened to the Grecians. Painting having arrived at the degree of perfection to which the moderns were able to bring it, began to decay, and under the same climate in which Nature alone, without any extraordinary assistance, had produced the great painters of the age of Leo X, we see, with astonishment and surprize, that all the premiums of the academy of St. Luke, all the attention of several sovereigns, in one word, the concurrence of all moral causes, could not give a successor to these great artists. The Tuscans wishing to imi tate Michael Angelo, hardly preserved the boldness of his outlines, without being able to preserve the intelligence and science of his figures. This was the case with Salviati, Bronsini, Va sari, &c. The same happened to Raphael. All his pupils imitated some of his great qualities, but no one preserved the totality of his manner. Giulio Romano pretended to be serious and expressive, and became gloomy and affected. Polidoro wished to be easy and facile, and fell into licences. Pierino mixed the Tuscan style with that of his master; Penni was cold and inanimate; and Manari, by his short life, put an end to the school. On the other hand, Correggio had left no pupil. Parmeggianino, who followed him, made a mixture very outrée of his grace with the manner of the pupils of Raphael, By the labours of Paolo Veronese, painting was prevented from falling into decay. He formed his style by following nature. Fortune, however, was still kind to Italy, and in the middle, of the distress and war, which caused the different princes to neglect the arts, she produced some great men, endowed with genius, |